


Keep Moving Forward

by balorsdemon



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Post-Prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-17 10:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balorsdemon/pseuds/balorsdemon
Summary: Finn's just gotten out of prison. Seth just so happens to live down the hall. This is their story.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My name is Meg, you can find me on tumblr @ balorclubrps ; I've been a big ballins shipper for a while now, but I've never had to muse enough to write a fic for AO3 but here we are! This story is not solely my own; a good bit of the things happening here (and in the future) are based off headcanons that myself and tumblr user devittprinces came up with. In a way, this story is for them :)  
> I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to leave feedback!

"This... fecking DOOR!" Finn grumbled, shoving the old, stubborn door hard with his shoulder. The door didn't budge, just like the last three times he'd done so. Out of frustration, he kicked the door hard with the toe of his shoe, cursing under his breath. 

He'd lived in this new apartment for less than a month and hadn't had anything go right since day one. He wanted to complain to the landlord, but anything was better than his last situation. Finn had been sentenced to ten years in a corrections facility in Florida, so a jammed door was a huge step up from prison quarters and no privacy.

Finn had been pretty much assigned this apartment as he left prison, having put in plenty of applications with the help of his parole officer, and this was the only place that didn't seem to completely balk at the thought of housing ex-cons. It wasn't the best place by any means, but Finn was just happy to have his own place and not have to follow orders from a sweating prison guard for once.

He struggled with the key again, pulling the door handle tight, hoping something would give. No luck. He grumbled under his breath, banging his forehead against the door. Why was today not his day?

"Hey man, you need a hand with that? The doors here are tricky," offered a friendly voice. Finn had been so fixated on his fight with the door to his apartment he hadn't even noticed someone coming up the stairs. He turned to look at the source, surprised to see a fairly young face smiling softly back at him. 

"Oh, uh, yeah, the stupid thing is just stuck I think," he mumbled, barely making eye contact with the stranger. Acclimating back into society after ten years behind bars wasn't the easiest task for him, but he was trying his best.

"Just try the key again, I'll help you push, the doors swell with the heat down here," the man spoke, chatting easily with Finn. He didn't say a word in response, just tried his routine again, the man stepping behind to put his shoulder into it with him. 

Finn stumbled when the door popped open suddenly, not expecting the stranger's tactics to work. "Thanks," he mumbled softly, pulling the door back toward himself to hide what little bit of his space had been exposed when the door had popped open.

"No problem man! I'm Seth by the way, if you ever need anything. I just live at the end of the hall," he smiled, pointing in the direction around the corner.

"Thanks Seth," he mumbled again, eyes moving across the stranger's dark features before finding a spot behind him to stare at. 

"I didn't catch your name, you must be new around here? I don't think I've seen you before,"

Man, this guy was chatty. Finn wasn't used to people in his personal space, or even taking any sort of interest in him. Hell, he hadn't even met the landlord here. The secretary had been the one to handle his paperwork and give him keys.

If it was 10 years ago, he'd have no issue being candid with a stranger like Seth and tell him "yeah I'm a recluse, I don't get out," but that wasn't him anymore.

He shrugged, turning to go into his apartment. "M'Finn. Thanks again," he said gruffly, shutting the door in the man's face.

Politeness used to be something that came so naturally to Finn, but not anymore. He was, however, kicking himself for being so short with this new neighbor. His parole officer had told him meeting new people and making friends would go a long way in helping getting back into society feel more normal, but Finn was still struggling.

There was something about this Seth fellow that intrigued him though. Finn couldn't put his finger on it. This man was the first person who seemed to even notice him since he'd moved in, and it struck a chord with him.

An hour later when he finally laid down for the night, he found himself replaying the interaction over and over in his head, falling asleep to the image of Seth's eyes fixated in his brain.


	2. Two

One thing no one really explained to Finn when he left prison was washing machines. He'd never been super handy with laundry before his time in a corrections facility, and he wasn't on laundry duty on the inside, so having to wash his own laundry in his apartment complex felt like rocket science in a sense. He'd just barely become used to the fact he had to turn water off when he walked away from the sink, and now he had to tackle _this_.

With his laundry basket and detergent in hand, he walked down the four flights of stairs to the laundry room - yet another drawback; no elevator in this place - and set his things down in front of an empty machine. He stuck a hand in the pocket of his jeans, producing some quarters to put into the machine. Fiddling around with the washing machine and his things, he squinted at the faded directions, just not wanting to fuck up his laundry. 

He heard the _slap slap slap_ of someone's sandals, causing him to freeze up and stop what he was doing.

"Oh hey neighbor!" 

Seth, the man from yesterday. Finn immediately relaxed again, just glad it wasn't a _total_ stranger. Well... Seth was still a stranger, but at least he was nice. 

"Hey," Finn murmured quietly, busying himself by pretending to sort his laundry, hoping Seth would be gone soon so he wouldn't embarass himself. He'd let his laundry go until he absolutely had to wash it, so he was sure he looked quite a sight with his frumpy clothes and a mountain of laundry.

Finn kept tabs on Seth out of the corner of his eye, shifting his body so his back was never fully to the man. He was full of trust issues, and prison had taught him a few survival tips. Finn knew it'd be a while before those ingrained actions would fade.

Seth was cheery, humming a song Finn didn't recognize as he threw his laundry into the machine. Finn couldn't help but stare; something about Seth was so odd to him but also equally intriguing. Finn wondered for a moment what Seth was like when he was completely alone, but shook the thought from his mind.

"You alright?" Seth asked, his question immediately setting Finn into an internal panic. That shake of the head to clear his thoughts had been in real life, not just his imagination. His eyes widened slightly and he turned quickly to fiddle with the machine again, not saying a word to him.

Finn thought he'd gotten the directions down and began to feed quarters into the machine, hoping the gaze he felt drilling a hole into him would be gone soon. Why wouldn't he just **go**?

"Um," Seth murmured, stepping up next to Finn, his shoulder brushing the shorter man's. Finn had to steel himself into not jerking away. He hated personal space being invaded. "You've got it backwards, pal. Here, you've got to choose the settings first," he explained, reaching across Finn's space to press the appropriate buttons. Finn's nose was immediately filled with something that smelled delicious, but he couldn't figure out what exactly it was. Cologne, maybe?

He muttered a soft thanks, face flushing as a wave of embarassment washed over him. This guy had to help him with getting into his apartment, and now his own laundry. Boy, he was adjusting just fine to normal life. Did this guy have to show him how to take a damn shower too? Finn felt frustration replace the embarassment in a matter of moments, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady his head. All he got in return was that smell smacking him in the face. 

Seth smiled and nodded at Finn, seeming to not noticing the man's odd behavior. He said he'd see him around, and turned to leave. Finn watched his back until he was gone from sight, still staring in wonder at the doorway. He still couldn't fathom how a stranger could be this nice.

\----------

Later that day, Finn decided to go for a walk. He hadn't had that sort of freedom for a decade, and he wanted to take full advantage of it now that he could do as he pleased (within reason; he was still on parole for another year). He locked up his apartment and headed down the stairs, squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun. 

He reminded himself to put a pair of sunglasses on his "to buy" list, averting his gaze down to the grass to avoid squinting anymore than he had to.

"Hey, Finn!"

There was that familiar voice again. Finn looked up in the direction the shout had come from, noticing Seth across the way, waving at him.

Finn gave a half-hearted wave in response, heading in his direction. He wasn't even sure why. He could've just waved and gone about his day, but his feet were carrying him in the man's direction.

He froze suddenly when he realized Seth was holding a dog leash. The dog he had with him was quite a small thing, and for the moment, hadn't even noticed Finn. That didn't matter to his brain though. He'd developed quite a fear of dogs thanks to his run-ins with the police and the occasional sweeps that would happen when he was in prison. Finn knew his fear of dogs was a bit irrational, especially since this particular dog was about the size of a loaf of bread. 

Seth noticed his wariness, glancing down at the dog and then back to Finn. "Prince won't bother you, promise. He's a spoiled shit, thinks everyone's beneath him," he chuckled, nudging the dog gently with his foot as it sniffed at the grass. The dog was unfazed, not paying Seth any attention. Finn still stood an awkward length away, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He couldn't trust that easily.

After a long silence, he finally cleared his throat, speaking up. "So, you have a dog?"

_What a stupid fucking question, of course he's got a dog, you idiot._

Seth's smile widened, nodding at the question. "Two, actually. Prince and Kevin. They're both spoiled rotten." He chuckled softly, shifting his grip on the leash as Prince pulled further away to sniff at a seemingly interesting patch of grass.

Finn didn't know what to say. He was so rusty with small talk, and wary of strangers. Everything in him was just telling him to bail, try again tomorrow and shut himself away, but his feet were rooted to the spot.

"I, uh, I had a dog as a kid," he mumbled, scuffing his shoe in the grass. What a lame sentence. At least he was finding some connections, forcing himself into conversation. That was what was important here. He just wanted to _know_ Seth. Something about this man just kept drawing him in.

Seth, if he noticed Finn's awkwardness, was nice enough to ignore it. He beamed, nodding at his response. "Yeah, I love dogs a lot, they're such great friends. I actually walk dogs twice a week for people living here so I can make some extra money. I think Prince here gets jealous that I come home smelling like other dogs though," he laughed, eyes sparkling a bit in the sunlight.

"That's cool," Finn said softly, a bit mesmerized by Seth's features as he laughed, though he tried not to stare too long. He shifted a bit on his feet, glancing around. He just wanted to go now; Seth's blinding happiness had set his whole body on edge. 

"I, um, I've got to go," he said quickly, turning and taking steps in the opposite direction. He heard Seth say something, but it was drowned out by the rushing sound of blood in his ears as he practically ran back toward his apartment.

Slamming the front door behind him, he sank to the floor, chest heaving slightly from running up the few flights of stairs. 

_What the fuck was that?_

Was this backsliding? How did these tiny interactions with his neighbor turn him completely inside out? Finn had thought when he gained his freedom back that things would come naturally to him again, but if these interactions the past few days were any indicator, he was dead wrong.

Seth had his head in a tizzy, and he'd barely just begun to know him. Finn's stomach turned and he sprinted to the bathroom, emptying what little was on his stomach into the toilet.

This was not normal. He had never had this sort of reaction to anyone, man or woman. Was it just all overwhelming to adjust to, meeting new people? That's what he tried to chalk it up to. He didn't want to face what else it could be, because it couldn't be anything else, could it?


	3. Three

It had been four days since the _incident_. Not that Finn was counting, _no way_. He had tried telling himself he was fine, but he knew his paranoia was creeping back in again. He'd had a dream that included Seth two days after the run-in, one that left him in a pool of sweat when he woke up, and he knew it didn't just come from the Florida heat. 

He couldn't even remember the dream clearly, even when he'd first woken up, startled, with his eyes darting around the room as he regained a hold on his surroundings. He just remembered a laugh, and a flash of Seth's imperfect smile, and those _eyes_. Finn couldn't classify it as a nightmare, couldn't really classify it as _anything_. He'd never had a dream leave him so shaken, even with all of his terror-filled nights he experienced in prison.

He'd been doing his best to avoid Seth, always peeping through the hole in the door and craning his neck around before leaving the apartment.  He felt foolish, slinking around like this just to avoid a nice neighbor, but he didn't know how else to act. He was **not** adjusting well to a new living situation, and Seth's presence was making it no easier.

He had a meeting with his parole officer just yesterday, and after a lot of awkward silences and Finn feeding him bullshit "things are fine" lines, he finally cracked and spilled everything about this new neighbor. His parole officer, in a way, had become Finn's unofficial therapist. He wasn't letting himself connect with anyone else, and Matt (Finn still called him Mr. Bloom, even after countless protests to call him by his first name) hated to see him struggling. He, to Finn's horror, was pleased to hear that a friend was slowly emerging in his life. In his own way, he gently poked and prodded at Finn's confidence, convincing him to try again.

And so here Finn was now, standing in front of the door he assumed was Seth's. God, he hoped he had it right; the embarrassment if he was wrong would probably send him six feet under. 

_Just knock, you eejit, get it over with._

Finn didn't even realize he'd knocked on the door until that blinding smile was smacking him in the face again. Seth had answered the door with that same cheery disposition, dressed in some ratty basketball shorts and a dingy pair of socks. Finn's gaze stayed locked hard onto a spot to the left of Seth's head, not trusting himself to fully look at his half-clothed neighbor. 

"Hey dude, how's it going? Did you need something?" Seth asked, shifting his leg to shoo a curious Yorkie away from the door. Finn didn't miss it, eyes flicking down for a quick moment and then back to his safe spot.

He opened his mouth slightly to speak, realizing he hadn't even planned this part, but instead he just cleared his throat, coughing into his balled fist. He stuttered a bit as he finally spoke, his nails digging into his palm.

"I, uh, no. I, um... Do you like soccer?"

The initial look of confusion on Seth's face made Finn want to crawl back to his apartment and hide in his blankets; he felt so stupid asking something like that.

"Yeah, sort of! I play Fifa with a few friends when I visit their place, but I don't really _play_. I like football better," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Why d'ya ask?"

Finn wet his bottom lip with his tongue, an automatic reaction to the sudden dryness that plagued his mouth. If he wasn't so caught up in his anxiety, he could've swore he saw Seth's eyes follow the motion.  "I was going to see if you wanted to have a kick around or something if you weren't busy," he mumbled, hands shoving deep into his pockets as he eyes shifted from Seth's face to a stain on the concrete floor.

He felt like a kid again, asking someone's mother if their child could come play. Social cues had all been lost on him with his time behind bars, and he just felt lame.

"Oh, yeah, sure man! I can't for too long, I don't like leaving the dogs cooped up for long periods. Give me just a minute." Seth said enthusiastically, turning his head to mumble at his dog to fuck off. "You can come in if you want, I'll only be a second." 

Finn hesitated, remembering Seth had dogs, rubbing his (now clammy) hands against his shorts. "I actually have to go get my ball," he said quickly, turning on his heels before Seth could respond.

He sped walked back to his apartment, slamming the door behind him. He frantically got himself a glass of water, gulping it down as his heart beat like a drum in his chest. He silently prayed to whatever entities there were that he'd act fucking normal for once, letting the glass clatter against the counter. He wiped a lingering drop of water from his bottom lip as he turned to his bedroom to retrieve his soccer ball; he'd picked up the thing two days prior, wanting to treat himself to something nice and take his mind off everything that had been weighing on him. He hadn't even had a chance to use it yet; soccer was a regular activity of his as kid, and one he was excited to dive back into now.

He took a deep breath before exiting his apartment, but stumbled as he walked into Seth. He had no idea the man would be on the other side of his door. He blinked, mumbling an apology and tried to center his head.

Not much about Seth's appearance had changed; just some worn in sneakers on his feet now. Finn tried to ignore the man was practically half-naked, but how do you truly ignore that? What caught Finn off guard the most though was Seth's hair. He must've only seen it tied back; the normal bun was now gone and replaced with quite luscious curly hair, a bit frizzy due to the heat. It suited Seth well, and Finn had to push the word _handsome_ from his mind as they walked down the steps and out to the open grassy area in front of their apartment building.

\-------

"Dude, this is fun, but I'm worn out. I think I've got to call it a night." Seth said from where he was lying in the grass. 

The two had passed and dribbled circles around each other, chasing down the ball when one of them would kick it with too much force, always followed by some hearty laughter from Seth. Finn had found within minutes of getting active, all of his previous qualms about being awkward had slipped away, like they hadn't even been there in the first place. Today was the first day in a long time he felt truly happy, and he was relishing the moment. Hearing Seth say he had to go deflated him a bit, however.

"Okay," he murmured quietly, sitting up and leaning his arms over his knees. Seth got up from his spot just a few feet away, dusting some grass off his shorts. Finn had to shout a mantra in his head as to not completely stare at his ass. _Not the time._

"I, um, I had fun. Thanks for coming out here." He said, gazing up at Seth from the ground. Seth smiled and stuck his hand out, tugging Finn to his feet. Finn's hand felt unnaturally warm as he let go, and he gritted his teeth slightly at the fact that was what his brain chose to focus on.

"Yeah, man, anytime. I don't work much this week, so just come knockin' if you want to kick the ball around again. Maybe I can coax into football?" Seth asked, his voice lilting into a gentle teasing tone, nudging Finn with a sharp elbow. 

Finn chuckled, a truly happy noise leaving his throat, nodding at the question. He retrieved his ball from the grass and they walked back up the few flights of steps to their apartments. Seth clapped Finn on the back as he passed by on the way to his own apartment, telling him to have a good night. 

Finn couldn't deny it now, in the safety of his own home, that he was crushing hard on his neighbor. Truthfully, it had begun from their first meeting, but Finn had been in full denial. 

He didn't need this right now. He just wanted a normal life. What he needed most right now was a job, not a distraction. One thing to tackle at a time. Romance, or any kind of infatuation was just a bad idea.

However, the wet dream he had that night said otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't feel the longest when I was writing it, and I'm still not sure how I feel about some of the dialogue in here but I hope you all enjoyed it!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this one took forever; I got distracted by real life holiday stuff as well as a ton of muse for an ambalor one shot. Keep your eyes peeled for that one soon!

Finn was having a tough time finding a job that paid him decently. So far, even with Matt's help, they'd only found one thing that had panned out well so far. It was just dish duty at a local mom and pop resturant, and they paid under the table. While Finn was grateful for some work hours and cash in his pocket, he knew this wouldn't be sustainable. He wanted to be able to save some money, not just scrape by. That wasn't living.

There _was_ someone who could help him though. His old employer, Mick. The man had been nice enough to keep Finn's commissary money full while he was behind bars, because as Mick had said over the phone, the one time he'd come in person to visit: "We take care of our own, and you sure as shit aren't no snitch," 

Finn knew attempting to contact him would be in gross violation of his parole, however. But at this point, he was at wits end, and he sure wasn't going to go to a shelter when he was hungry. He needed to be able to take care of himself. Hell, his family sure weren't the ones to help him so he'd have some kind money when he got out. That was all Mick. His family had up and shunned him from the day he was incarcerated. Before then, even. They didn't stand behind him in his time of need. Then again, who would, knowing the things they knew? He'd lied to them for years about what he did for work, but it was for everyone's greater well-being. At least, it's what he told himself. Helped him sleep a little better at night. Sometimes it was just easier to lie to yourself.

Finn scooped some coins off the counter, sighing loudly. This would probably fuck him over later, but right now, he didn't care about consequences. Okay, that wasn't true, he did care. But he sure as hell wasn't thinking of that in the moment. He shut the door to his apartment firmly behind him, doing a little half jog down the stairs and out to the street. 

There was a cluster of payphones not far from the apartment building, so he headed straight for it, Mick's number at the forefront of his mind. He deposited some coins into the machine, punching the appropriate numbers, and then turned to lean his back against the phone booth. Another tactic still lingering. This way he had a vantage point, and no one would be sneaking up on him. Not that he even had that risk here, but old habits died hard.

"Hello?" a gruff voice on the other end inquired.

"Mick! Hey, it's Finn," he couldn't help but smile slightly, the man's voice bringin him a small glimmer of comfort. In a world full of new and confusing things, Mick's voice was at least one small comfort.

"Holy shit, hey Finn. Haven't heard from you in ages."

Finn pressed his lips together, rocking gently on the balls of his feet as he set into a spiel about how things had changed, catching Mick up on everything pertinent since they'd last spoken.

"Listen man, I actually need a favor. Kind of a big one. I can't find a job, not a good steady one... I was hoping I could get a loaner to hold me over. Just for a little while." He sucked in one cheek, chewing on the skin out of nervousness. It'd been ages since he'd had to ask for anything from Mick; borrowing money especially made him nervous. 

"Finn, of course! We always help our brothers," Mick said smoothly. Finn imagined Mick was on the other end, sitting and smoking a cigar. The man loved cigars. Finn had rarely seen him without one when he was a free man. 

A weight was instantly lifted from Finn's chest and he felt like he could breathe again. One less thing to worry about. 15 hours a week for that hole in the wall resturant wasn't going to pay his rent. 

Mick asked him a few more questions, just checking to see if he could still send money into Finn's banking account, then hung up. Finn realized once he'd hung up that Mick never asked him how much he needed, but ultimately he knew it'd be fine.

He knew Mr. Bloom would have an anuerysm if he found out what Finn had just done. He'd go back to jail in a heartbeat if the police knew, but for some reason, that didn't terrify him as much as it should've. Ten years inside, he never thought he'd see the end of it. Or live to the end of it, for that matter. And yet, here he was, basically playing with matches just so he could line his pockets. And part of him just didn't care. That was the old Finn.

He'd been working for Mick 7 years when he was busted. Mick ran a bunch of organized crime in the area, anything ranging from drugs to car theft, home burglary.... you name it, Mick had a piece of it. Finn's specialties included safe cracking, forgery, and general intimidation. When Mick needed to give someone an extra push of persuasion, he'd call Finn. If someone needed a fake ID or some other documents, they'd come see him too. If someone was to tell him as a kid that his passion for the arts would mean he'd be working in a crime ring one day, he would of never bought it. 

The police had caught Finn in the middle of a break in; Mick had targeted some competition, and Finn had been there to clean them out. It was supposed to be a simple in and out, but it was anything but. They'd done surveillance of the guy's house for weeks, learning his routine, and Finn swore he had everything down to a science. But he was wrong.

He had been turning the dial on the man's safe in his bedroom when he'd felt a barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head. The man's voice informed him he'd already dialled 911, and Finn knew in that moment he was fucked. That didn't stop him from trying his damn best to make it a more even playing field. He and the man had fought and struggled, Finn able to catch him off guard and knock the gun from his hands. It gave him a little leverage, but not much. The man had a hell of a lot of fight in him. 

Finn had tried to run before police got there, but his timing was all wrong, and he almost would've died there that day if he hadn't used his head for a moment. The police took him into custody, already knowing he was responsible for a number of other crimes they'd had to investigate over the past weeks. He was a good thief, but not good enough to get off scot free.

This time, he swore it'd be different. He wasn't going to back to that hell hole of a prison again. Not if his life depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed a peek into Finn''s backstory!! Unfortunately this will most likely be the last chapter I'm able to post of this story until the new year; I'm going on Christmas vacation with family until new year's eve. I promise there will be more in the new year. I hope everyone has a very happy holidays!


End file.
